


Return to Sender

by worldtravellingfly



Series: Self Inserts [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 1940s, Ableist Language, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Awesome Howling Commandos, Babies, Body Dysphoria, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Lives, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes is Just Trying to Cope, Bucky might end up with his own Mini-Me army, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Fluff, Frostbite, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Loss of Limbs, Married Bucky Barnes, Mild Language, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slice of Life, is a bitch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-09-29 08:05:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17199716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldtravellingfly/pseuds/worldtravellingfly
Summary: Bucky gets to go home after all. He’s in literal pieces; a man who lost much more than just an arm. He lost his brother, his anonymity, and perhaps worst of all: his sense of self, of peace.





	1. Welcome Home, Son

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silenceia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silenceia/gifts).



> Hi guys!  
> I've been attacked by this shiny plot bunny a few days ago. Tried to tag pretty much everything I could think of, but if there's anything I missed, please tell me in the comment section below. 
> 
> As usual: no copyright infringement intended.

1:

 

“Sarge, it’s time,” Dum Dum knocked on the door to the tiny officer’s cabin that had been set aside for him.

 

Bucky nodded stoically, heaving his duffel bag onto his good shoulder.

 

Dum Dum twitched, as if wanting to reach out to take it from him.

 

A hot glare stopped him in his tracks.

 

Bucky was _not_ cripple enough to require one of his men to carry his own luggage for him. No sir.

 

Without letting on anything, Dum Dum turned around, leading the way back to staircase.

 

Morita and Gabe were already waiting for them, getting stared at. Not very subtly at that.

 

Bucky glared at the closest bystanders, hoping to install the fear of God in them. Or at least some basic human decency.

 

He was decidedly _not_ wondering if Elfie was going to show up. He was _not_ wondering what their kids would say when they saw their father for the first time in almost three years. He was _not wondering_ if someone had already told them about Uncle Steve or what had happened to him. He was _not_ wondering whether his sisters would come, his parents. Would his family even recognize him?

 

Bucky could barely remember what it was like – the last time he’d held them. What _he_ had been like.

 

The empty sleeve on his bad side had been pinned neatly into place by one of the nurses so he’d at least not look sloppy when they’d see each other again.

 

Taking a deep breath, Bucky tried to calm the storm in his mind, just a little bit. Morita, Gabe, and Dum Dum drew nearer.

 

“No matter what they say, we will walk down that gangway all four of us together,” he told them, voice a bit hoarse. The ‘or else’ was implied. Mostly because Bucky wasn’t exactly sure what he _could_ do if they refused, or some over-eager MP tried to intervene.

 

It wasn’t like he was fighting fit. ~~That he’d~~ ~~ _ever_~~ ~~again be fighting fit~~.

 

“Yes, Sarge.”

 

Bucky swallowed, nodded curtly, and watched as the gangway was lowered. Distantly, he could hear the roar of a crowd.

 

It took a moment longer than he wanted to admit until he realized that they were cheering.

 

Taking another deep breath, he hoped he wouldn’t stumble, or, worse, fall and embarrass himself.

 

The signal to proceed came, so Bucky steeled himself, straightening up as much as possible, and led the way down that gangway. A step behind him, the remaining members of the Howling Commandos followed.

 

Some marching band was playing, but Bucky tried to focus all of his energy on walking straight ahead. Toward the dock, where some bigwig was waiting to ‘welcome him home’, as he’d been informed.

 

Bucky couldn’t care any less whose hand he was supposed to shake in front of whatever number of photographers they’d dragged out for the occasion. It wasn’t like he was just the poor replacement for _Captain America_. The crippled second-in-command.

 _He_ wanted to see his family, kiss his wife, and never kill another human being again.

 

“Welcome home, son,” he could hear some General tell him, awkwardly trying to reach out for his good hand – which was already occupied.

 

Bucky put down his bag and saluted, happily ignoring the last orders he’d been given.

 

The Army had taken so much from him. They could stuff their perfect pictures where the sun didn’t shine.

 

General Whatever-his-Name-Is settled on saluting back, then repeating the gesture for the other Howlies. (Although his smile looked a bit fixed around the edges, but if he refused, he’d likely end up being mobbed.)

 

After taking a number of pictures of him, Bucky was finally dismissed. Picking up his bag, he moved to the side, finally free.

 

“Go on, Sarge,” Gabe said, subtly poking him in the back, where no one would notice.

 

Before he could quite decide how to proceed, how to find his family, the decision was taken out of his hands: a small hellion came running towards him. (And when had she grown so big?)

 

“Daddy! DADDY!”

 

Bucky dropped his duffel bag, bracing for impact. A moment later, his Maggie hugged him as tightly as she dared.

 

He swallowed down the burning sensation where she accidentally touched his wounds, concentrating on breathing in the smell of the lavender soap Elfie got from her sister, and tried to convince himself that this was real.

 

“Daddy, you’re here!”

 

Bucky swallowed again, pushing down the tears he could feel welling up in his eyes. “Yes, I am,” he managed to reply, voice raspy.

 

Then she curtsied to the other Howlies each, like a perfect little lady, and introduced herself: “Good day, gentlemen. I am Maggie Barnes.”

 

None of the other three dared to so much as smile. (Their madly twinkling eyes gave them away though.) Each returned her greeting with a Very Serious Salute.

 

Like a little queen, she graciously turned to her siblings, waving them closer.

 

Jim squeezed Bucky’s shoulder, and then they were encircled by the rest of their families.

 

Elfie was crying, and smiling, and trying to usher their three little ones closer.

 

Bucky stayed kneeling, to be nearer in height to them. (Perfectly placed for some baby hugs.)

 

Their firstborn son clearly didn’t remember him, but that was probably to be expected. He hadn’t seen his father in almost three years, after all. And he’d only been two when Bucky’d left.

“Hello Danny.”

 

Bucky stomped on the hurt when _his son_ checked with Elfie whether it was alright to reply. “Hello Dad.”

 

“And who are these cutie pies?”

 

The toddler twins hid on Elfie’s other side, peeking out at him from behind her leg.

 

Bucky could see his mother sniffle into her hankie, but ignored that in favor of drinking in his little family.

 

The twins looked adorable in their Sunday best, with minimal dirt spread over their bodies, shyly taking him in.

 

Danny was handsome, wearing his best shortpants and shirt, with what appeared to be a homemade sweater. His hair had probably once been combed, but now it stuck up everywhere.

 

And Maggie was dressed in a plaid dress, white tights, and a cardigan that matched Elfie’s, Mary Janes polished perfectly.

 

Carefully, he got up, off the ground, to greet his wife properly.

 

Elfie didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around his middle, nor to kiss him, despite the still healing scar tissue on his face.

 

“I am so glad you are back.”

 

Bucky closed his eyes at her words, breathing in her perfume. Letting her voice wash over his doubts.

 

“I love you, Bucky.”

 

“Love you too, darling.”

 

In Elfie’s embrace, the rest of the world seemed to melt away. For just a moment, they were alone, enjoying a quiet moment. Like Bucky had dreamed about so many times over the last three years.

 

And he could still barely process that this time he could _feel_ her arms, her warm body, the air she breathed brush against his skin.

 

She didn’t shy away from kissing his cheek, then pressed her lips against his mouth.

 

Bucky tried to wrap his good arm around her, but he’d never again be able to carry her to bed, or embrace her, or curl himself around her on her bad days. (It was his turn for bad days now, instead.)

 

Elfie refused to let him go completely, shiny eyes holding his gaze.

 

And yes, he still loved her so much, it hurt.

 

His mother hugged him as tightly as she dared, fussing over his uniform and the medals they’d pinned to his chest.

 

His father was trying to discreetly wipe away a tear, but clapped his good shoulder, a new understanding settling between them.

They’d seen things, impossible, inhumane things, and they’d survived somehow. Long enough to see their loved ones again.

 

Maggie stayed glued to his other side. The younger kids gradually came closer, examining him with curious eyes.

 

Bucky just hoped he’d not fall short of their expectations.

 

And then it was his sisters’ turn to fuss, hug, and kiss him: Rebecca held him close, trying to crawl into his skin, seemingly, and wouldn’t let go for a long moment. Mary and Anna just pressed kisses to his good cheek.

 

Bucky tuned back in as Elfie was speaking to the other Commandos. There was an exchange of addresses, and phone numbers they could be reached at, and encouragements to write. ( _HOW_?)

 

Then finally, finally, the circus was over and he could go. Leave this crowded place, stuffed to the roof with people all reuniting with those lucky bastards who’d made it out alive.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky arrives home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> ATTENTION: I UPPED THE RATING! JUST TO BE SAFE!

 

2:

 

Their apartment still looked the same as when he’d left it: shoes lined the wall in a semi-orderly fashion, stuck on a small shelf built by Bucky himself. Coats and jackets hung from pegs on the same wall, sleeves stuffed with hats and scarves for the winter.

 

The living room was filled with toys and books, the ratty old couch they’d gotten from a neighbor, and picture frames hung on the wall over the couch. Two new ones had been added in his absence: a candid shot of Steve and Bucky, clearly cut out of a newspaper, and his official service picture. Their couch table was still two old wooden boxes nailed to an old, adapted door, only now the kids had added a bit of color to it. (Bucky loved it.)

 

He could see through the window into the kitchen, where the smell of cake seemed to originate.

 

David and Diana ran off, all shyness falling off of them.

 

Maggie stayed glued to his side, which continued when they were shooed off to the couch by Elfie.

 

Danny looked at Maggie, Bucky, then his mother, and followed Elfie into the kitchen like a loyal lapdog.

 

As soon as he sat, Maggie climbed into his lap, leaning her head against his chest. She moved back, frowned at the medals, then rolled her shoulders.

“They’re annoying,” the little lady proclaimed.

 

Bucky bit down on his lip. “Yes, they are, aren’t they?”

 

“I’m so happy you’re home, Daddy. Mama cried a lot when they sent that ghastly (where had she learned that word?) letter saying you died.” Maggie tilted her head so he could look into her pretty gray eyes. “It was put in the fire. By accident.”

 

“By accident, huh?” Bucky couldn’t help the smile now. “Musta been some kinda accident.”

 

Maggie’s eyes twinkled mischievously at him.

 

He chuckled, hugging her closer. “I missed you, little princess.”

 

“Missed you too, Daddy. Lots and lots.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the twins creep closer. What kind of trouble were they up to now?

 

Elfie interrupted whatever they’d planned by bringing out the cake. It was a simple Gugelhupf, but it had his mouth watering.

 

She’d even coated it in her lemon-y powdered sugar frosting.

 

Bucky discreetly pinched himself, wondering if this was real or just another fever dream. He wouldn’t put it passed him to drool over Elfie’s cake in his hallucinations. It would be not unlike him at all.

 

Elfie sat next to him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, and then began cutting the cake as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

 

He _loved_ her in that moment. So much.

 

A chorus of disgusted noises rang out around them. Maggie was grinning like a loon, and Danny blushed, but they and the twins still did it anyway.

 

Bucky growled playfully at them, trying to avoid laughing, since that would only encourage the little miscreants. And they certainly didn’t need any encouragement.

 

Elfie raised an eyebrow at the troublesome four, which stopped them.

 

“But Mama! Won’t you get cooties from Daddy?” Danny protested.

 

Bucky bit his lip, really having to _try_ to avoid laughing.

 

“No, honey. I am immune against Daddy’s cooties at this point. Why don’t we have some cake? Please give me your plates.”

 

Maggie helped distribute the cake to everyone.

 

David and Diane got theirs cut into little, more easily edible pieces.

 

Bucky made sure that Danny was okay with his own slice.

 

“This has been the best thing I’ve eaten in the last three years,” he told her after the first bite, closing his eyes as the sweet flavor enveloped his mouth.

 

Elfie grinned, a hint of smugness tugging at her lips. “Good.”

 

Bucky got a little bit lost in her eyes, but a little giggle tore him out of his thoughts.

 

“How do you like school, Maggie? I’m sorry I missed your first day.”

 

Maggie primly put down her glass of milk, as if it was an expensive cup of tea. “I like it. I made friends with my bench-mates. They live close by too, and their daddies were gone too.” She poked a piece of her cake, avoiding his gaze. “Some of the other girls aren’t that nice. They think I’m lying about you, Daddy.”

 

Bucky swallowed, beating down his irrational anger at a bunch of six-year-olds. “Why don’t you show me your school on Monday?”

 

Elfie discreetly squeezed his knee, half-hidden by her skirt.

 

“You wanna see my school? But Daddy, you’re a _boy_. I don’t know whether you’re _allowed_.” Maggie’s eyes were wide. She was frowning a bit, tongue poking out of her mouth – just like her mother when she was considering a problem.

 

Bucky grinned. “I think they’ll make an exception for me, princess. Having all those medals might be good for _something_.”

 

David’s eyes switched to said medals. “They _shiny_.”

 

“They are, aren’t they?” Bucky smiled at the toddler.

 

He was adorable.

 

“Can I touch?” David’s arm was already reaching out as he spoke.

 

“After you finish eating and washing your hands, you may touch them,” Bucky nodded.

 

David stuffed his remaining cake into his mouth, resembling a human-shaped chipmunk rather accurately.

 

Elfie’s eyebrow had risen once more.

 

“Excused?” David asked.

 

“Wait until everyone is finished eating too,” his mother told him.

 

The little boy squirmed, as if he was sitting on hot coal instead of the child-sized stool. “Not fair.”

 

“It’s not fair to your siblings either,” Bucky said, “or your mama. She baked the cake for us all to enjoy.”

 

David pouted, but settled down, arms crossed.

 

They might all four be little hellions and troublemakers, but deep down, they were all good kids.

 

After everyone had finished eating and washed their hands, so the chance of sticky residue was, if not zero, at least reasonably reduced. Bucky stretched out on the couch. He let the tiny boy sit on his stomach, so he could reach the coveted medals easier.

 

David’s little hands began poking at the medals, picking them up as much as they allowed, and trying to see how they worked.

 

Diane was watching this from her own little stool, first. But as the poking continued, she moved closer to the couch. When she thought he wouldn’t notice, she crawled up, joining her brother.

 

Bucky kept still, wondering what she’d do next.

 

Diane crawled up, until she was sitting next to her twin. But instead of the medals, she went straight for the most interesting thing to her: his stubbly cheek.

 

Patting it the first time, she pulled her hand away as if burnt. Blinking at the hand, then at the hair, she frowned. “Tickles,” Diane informed him.

 

Bucky bit his lip. “Does it?”

 

“Yes.” Then she reached out to stroke his cheeks some more. “I like it.”

 

He chuckled, moving his head so her little fingers were in his mouth and nibbled playfully at them.

 

Diane stopped for a moment, then squealed and giggled: “Mama, Mama, Daddy is eating my hand!”

 

Elfie laughed, leaning over the couch to press a kiss to all three of their foreheads. “I can see that.”

 

David fell forward. “Me too! Me too!”

 

Bucky threw his head back to laugh. Which was a tactical mistake, as he now had two small hands in his mouth.

 

“Have fun!” Elfie left them to their fate. The traitor.

 

Diane ended up giving up first, cuddling her little head against his collarbone and going straight to sleep. David joined her a moment later.

 

Bucky didn’t dare to move. He just tried to wrap his remaining arm around his little daughter. The stump at least was good enough to keep David from falling off. (Maybe he should have worn his prosthetic after all.)

 

Elfie found him like that about twenty minutes later. She smiled, leaning down to press their lips together gently.

 

He could practically _watch_ her melt.

 

Her strawberry-blonde hair brushed against his cheek, and Bucky closed his eyes. For the first time in three years, it really felt like he was _loved_. He could almost taste it on his tongue.

 

Elfie slowly reached out a hand to brush some of his hair back.

 

He opened his eyes to watch her watch him. And the kids.

 

“I wish we had a camera, right now,” she muttered, then kissed him again. Before he could assure her he’d buy one.

 

Then again – with what money? He was receiving a small stipend and he was eligible for a proper prosthetic from the Veterans Administration. But who’d hire him?

 

The stipend would cover their rent, and food. But it certainly didn’t leave much room for extravagance.

 

“Don’t. We can worry about everything tomorrow. Today, I just want to enjoy having you back home. I missed watching you with the kids,” Elfie went silent for a moment. Her thumb caressed his cheek so softly. “I am so proud of how you handled yourself today.”

 

Bucky swallowed heavily. “I just wish...” His eyes strayed to the picture on the wall.

 

Elfie’s green eyes lost their glimmer, and gained an entirely unwanted shine. “Me too, dear. Me too.”

 

She walked around the couch, picking up David with ease.

 

Diane sniffled once as she was shuffled a bit to the side as her father heaved himself upright. But she kept sleeping.

 

Bucky had to push down tears at the thought. His babies trusted him enough to fall asleep on him. They weren’t disgusted by his appearance. They liked poking his stubbly cheeks, sure, but he doubted that they had ever seen anything similar. Much less with the permission to _touch_.

 

Elfie led the way, sending a warm smile over her shoulder at him.

 

He tried to help as much as possible in stripping the kids down to their undies, but he didn’t want to wake them. Besides, Elfie was quicker than him.

 

Bucky decided he’d have to practice more. She couldn’t be the only parent doing the not so fun parenting stuff. He had _promised_ her.

 

Elfie put the twins into their bed, tucking them in. Kissing their foreheads. They could sleep in their underwear this once. It wasn’t worth waking them just to change them.

 

Bucky smoothed out imaginary wrinkles, pressing a kiss on their foreheads as well.

 

The two crept out of the room. Careful not to make a sound.

 

“Maggie and Danny are napping too,” Elfie whispered, leaning closer. “It’s been a long, exciting day and they didn’t sleep much last night.”

 

Their noses were almost touching.

 

Bucky breathed in her wonderful scent. “Is that so?”

 

Elfie hummed, wrapping her arms around his hips. He leaned his head against her temple.

 

They looked at each other for just a moment.

 

“Well, it has been an exciting day,” Bucky said, warmth beginning to bloom somewhere in his middle.

 

“Exhausting,” Elfie agreed, eyes twinkling with mischief.

 

That warmth began to spread through the rest of his body. He grinned at her.

 

“Maybe we should take a nap too.”

 

Elfie was already moving towards their own bedroom. “You _read_ my mind.”

 

Bucky noted that nothing had changed in here either, aside from the now missing baby bassinet. It looked almost exactly the same. His memories hadn’t betrayed him.

 

He watched Elfie for a moment. Just trying to take in this wonderful person he’d been lucky enough to marry.

 

Then he began to take off his own clothes. Neatly folding his uniform pieces on the drawers. He had lost the ability to be messy somewhere South of Italy.

 

_Would Elfie mind the scars? Would she prefer the jacket to stay on?_

 

She was down to her slip, and then looked up. Noticing his hesitation, Elfie came closer.

 

“It’s alright if you just want to nap, Bucky. We don’t have to –”

 

He grimaced. “I am … _different_. Not–”

Not _whole_. Not the man you married. Not the same.

 

Elfie reached out with her fingers, stroking his facial scars. “I doubt either of us is the same as before you went off to training. It’s been literal years. But it will be fine, as long as we work on getting to know each other again.”

 

She smiled at him. There was sadness in her eyes, in the corners of her mouth.

 

“Remember our rules for when I was doing poorly? I want you to tell me when something makes you uncomfortable. I want you to talk to me, period. I want you to do what you need to make sure you feel safe here. It will be alright as long as we are on the same page.”

 

He leaned into her touch, gently tugging her closer with his good arm. Elfie came willingly.

 

“I don’ know what to _do_ , darling. ‘M just so _angry_ all the time, and then I get scared of my own self. I want to go back to work. Need to feel _useful_.”

 

“Then I’ll see what I can find through word of mouth. Do you want to talk to your friends? What are they doing?”

 

Bucky sighed. “Not sure.”

 

They hadn’t talked about it during the war. It had seemed so far away – and chances too low – to spend energy on imagining the future. And then… And then Steve had gone down, and Bucky had fallen off a train, and then they were back on a ship to the US of A.

 

He knew that Dum Dum wanted to continue working for the government, vaguely, but he wasn’t sure about the others.

 

Morita was going to help in his parents’ store, as soon as they’d be able to get it back. (And as soon as they’d be let out of the internment camp.)

 

Falsworth would inherit an estate from his father at some point, so he’d likely work on getting to know what that entailed.

 

Gabe had wanted to become a teacher, before the war.

 

Dernier? He was a demolitions expert, so maybe the French would keep him in bread.

 

And Peggy? She’d likely try to keep her foot in the door of the secret agent business.

 

Bucky blinked, coming back to the present. Which included his lovely wife he hadn’t seen for three years.

“Are you sure you want to see…?”

 

Elfie nodded, then went on her tippy toes and their lips met. “I want to see _all_ of you. If you want to show me.”

 

He swallowed heavily. “It’s – it’s not pretty.”

 

That just earned him a raised eyebrow.

 

“Honey, it’s alright. It’s gonna be alright.”

 

Bucky closed his eyes, trying to center himself, and moved his hand to his buttons. He could take his own damn clothes off.

 

Elfie made no move to help him. Instead, she settled onto the bed, watching.

  
Their door was locked, just in case.

 

Previously, Bucky had already lost his pants, down to his drawers. Now, he was shrugging off his jacket. He folded it and set it on top of the rest.

 

He swallowed, peeking at Elfie’s reaction from the corner of his eye.

 

Bucky knew what the stump looked like: they’d had to amputate over his elbow. It was still red, scars shiny. It had healed well, and _faster_ than normal.

 

It was ugly.

 

Sometimes, he thought that _that_ wasn’t his arm. It had to belong to someone else.

 

Bucky Barnes was a good-looking, easy-going, fun-loving man. A husband and a father, who enjoyed life and a good laugh.

 

When he had looked into the mirror after waking up in a field hospital, one arm, a pinky finger, three toes, and a fingertip short…

The tip of his nose had just barely been saved. There were small scars on his face from shrapnel and that _thing_ HYDRA’d used on him.

 

He was very much not Bucky Barnes anymore. Physically, and emotionally.

 

He would understand if she didn’t want to touch him. Not anymore. If she’d shy away from the ugly parts of him. The ones missing.

 

Then again, this was _Elfie_. She’d surprised him every single time, from the first day of their relationship.

 

(Bucky just wondered when she’d run out of bunnies to pull out of her magic hat.)

 

She was still sitting on their bed, looking about as relaxed as possible. Just watching him patiently.

 

There was no horrified grimace. No screams. No disgust.

 

Letting out a deep breath, he tentatively sat next to her. His good shoulder turned toward her.

 

Elfie reached out gently, fingers tracing a path from his cheek over his jaw.

 

Bucky swallowed, hand twitching.

 

“Is this okay?”

 

He nodded, swallowed again, and closed his eyes.

 

“Tell me if you want me to stop, Bucky.”

 

He nodded again. That great big frog in his throat kept him from verbally replying.

 

“Can I hug you?”

 

A small smile stretched over his lips. “I’d not mind.”

 

She grinned; he could hear it in her voice even if he didn’t see her face light up. “You wouldn’t _mind_ , eh?”

 

Slowly, gently, patiently, her arms wrapped around his middle, warming him from the inside out.

 

It was good to be home again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but if you know me, you know I'm an irregular updater. RL is kicking my ass rn. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed anyway!
> 
> PS: You can now also find me on Twitter or Tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed your holidays and have a good transition into 2019!


End file.
